


Diving Lessons

by nancynotruth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: After Stanford, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Dean doesn't know how to dive, Diving lessons from Sam, Featuring Sam's Tortured Inner Monologue, First Kiss, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Motel swimming pool, Mutually Unrequited, Sam's crush is coming back, Sam-Centric, Season 1, Sometime before Dead In The Water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-29 03:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15063710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nancynotruth/pseuds/nancynotruth
Summary: Dean and Sam have only been back on the road together for a few weeks, and Sam is realizing just all the ways Dean has changed since the last time they'd been together. They sneak into a hotel pool for some brotherly bonding time, but when Dean refuses to swim and doesn't know how to dive, it's obviously Sam's brotherly duty to pull him in the water and teach him how to slice the water with hardly a splash. But as Sam is helping and rediscovering his brother, he also rediscovers feelings that he thought he'd left far behind.





	1. Not The Same Dean As Before

“Come on, Dean!” Yelled Sam, his hair plastered to his forehead by the overly chlorinated pool water. “You’re going to have to get in at some point.” 

“You know, I might just sit this one out,” Dean called from a reclining pool chair by the wall. “Take in some rays, get a nice tan.” 

“Dean, this is an indoor pool.” Sam rolled his eyes at his older brother, sinking underwater again. He couldn’t decide whether having Dean back was great or just plain annoying. Of course, the entire time he’d been at Stanford his first thought in the morning and his last thought at night were of his brother. How could it be any other way? Dean had practically raised him, there was no one more important in the world. But now that Dean was here, and Sam was slipping back into his life of hunting so easily that it terrified him, Sam was noticing just how much his brother had changed over the last three years. 

The first thing was his hair. When Sam had left, Dean’s hair had been hanging down by his collar in glorious dirty-blonde waves. Sam would never admit it, but the reason he’d started growing his hair at Stanford wasn’t because he wanted to fit in with the hippie crowd, it was to remind him of his older brother. And now Dean’s hair was cropped, a little longer in the middle, only about a quarter inch from his skull on the sides. It made Sam wonder why he’d gone to all the trouble of buying conditioner to keep his shaggy hair from tangling. 

The second was just his general form. Dean had always been muscular, sure, they both had. It was hard to be weak when you fought werewolves and windegos on an almost daily basis. But this, this was getting out of control. Even though Dean wore three layers, his biceps were still visible through the outermost jacket. The necklace Sam had given him looked shorter, but that was only because Dean’s neck had broadened with muscle. It gave Sam a weird feeling to look at his brother and see the Dean he’d left buried deep within a new coating of muscle and devil may care attitude. 

His eyes were different, too. Sam didn’t remember Dean’s eyes following him before he’d left Stanford, but now he could hardly turn around without feeling a stare tracking his every movement. He was raised a hunter, he knew when he was being watched. But every time he turned around again, Dean was staring at the tv or a book or his computer. Maybe Dean thought he’d run away if he was left unsupervised for too long. 

Sam came back up, breathing in gulps of the disgusting tasting air. Dean was watching him, just like always. When Sam met his gaze, Dean’s eyes widened and he refocused on the sign telling the number of feet and inches of the pool depth just to the left of Sam’s head.

“Come on, Dude. You know you want to get in,” Sam tried again. It had been Dean’s idea in the first place, to break into the motel swimming pool after closing time. Sam had jumped in as soon as they’d picked the lock. It had been a long, hard salt and burn and he needed to rinse off the ash. But Dean just sat in that pool chair and refused to move. 

“No,” Dean said, and something in his voice was off. Like this was not brotherly banter, but something serious that sam hadn’t caught onto yet. 

Sam didn’t want to be the only one in the pool, it was no fun to swim around in chemicals and other people’s hair without someone to keep him company. “Come on, Dean.” He tried his puppy eyes, making his face as pleading as it could get, but Dean lay back and stared fixedly over his head at the empty wheelchair lift as he sipped the coke they’d taken from the vending machine. 

Alright, that did it. Sam lifted himself out of the pool and began to walk over to Dean. “If you’re not going to get in the pool, I’m going to make you.” 

“I’d like to see you try, Sammy.” 

That hated nickname was what really made him take those final few steps to Dean’s lounging form. He grabbed Dean by the t-shirt and pulled him upright, and pushing him towards the pool. “It’s Sam,” he growled through gritted teeth. Dean just laughed. 

“Whatever you say, Sammy boy.” 

Sam used all his energy to jerk Dean towards the pool, but Dean wrapped a leg around his ankle and pulled back. They tussled for a few minutes, Sam pushing Dean towards the pool and Dean trying to get back to his lounge chair. Sam’s wet arms slid on Dean’s body, soaking his t-shirt and leaving slick tracks over his arms. Just when Sam thought he’d finally got his brother cornered, teetering on the edge of the pool, Dean spun away in some kind of jujitsu move that Sam had apparently missed in their father’s lessons and sent Sam sprawling into a panful belly flop, sending water everywhere. 

Dean was laughing when he came back up, doubling over and clutching his stomach, soaked with the water Sam had thrown into the air when he hit the pool. His skin was shining in the artificial lights they’d flipped on when they entered the pool room, and his eyes were shining so green that it took Sam’s already limited breath away. Had his eyes always been this green? 

“Better luck next time, Sammy!” Dean called as he turned back to his lounge chair. Yeah, next time, Sam thought as he pulled himself out of the pool as quietly as he could. Dean never heard him coming, only felt the tug on his shirt as Sam fell back into the pool pulling his lighter brother in behind him. Dean had time for a very un masculine yelp before his mouth was covered by the water. He thrashed around, hitting Sam’s chest and biceps as he struggled to get to the surface. This time, it was Sam who was laughing hysterically as he watched his brother trying to find the surface. 

Eventually, he took pity as Dean’s underwater circling became more desperate. The fall must have disorientated him more that Sam had thought. Sam grabbed Dean by his short hair and tugged him up to the surface, holding him up as Dean breathed in like he’d been an inch away from death. Wouldn’t it be hilarious, a hunter dying in a completely natural swimming pool? 

“You ok, Dean?” Sam asked, his triumph in winning the fight changing to slight concern as Dean’s face turned bright red. He must have been far more oxygen starved than Sam had thought. 

“I’m fine,” Dean snapped, slapping Sam’s hand away from his head. He did a few quick strokes to the edge of the pool and grasped onto it, his shirt riding up as he reached above his head to get a grip on solid ground. His abs were so much more defined than the last time Sam had needed to stitch him up, and there was a scar above his left hipbone that Sam had never noticed before. 

It wasn’t like he was checking his brother out, not at all. It was just that he needed to know this for the next time Dean needed medical support. He’d always known everything about his brother before. He’d known the average time of his showers when he was just showering and the average time when he was jerking off under the warm water, the number of shirts he owned and the number of shoes, the exact weight of his brother’s body after he’d had a double cheeseburger instead of a single. 

But now he was understanding just how little he knew about his new brother, the one who had replaced his Dean while he was away at Stanford. Sam had that sick feeling in his stomach again, realizing that all the time he’d spend with Brady and Jess studying and going to parties, Dean hadn’t just stayed cryogenically frozen in time. He’d moved on, just as Sam had tried to. 

Or maybe not. Dean was the one who had come to him, not the other way around. 

“That’s just cheating, Dude,” Dean gasped. He ran a hand through his hair, and sam felt a tingle in the tips of his fingers remembering what that hair felt like. Dean’s long hair had been fine, but this haircut just suited him. And it felt so good…

Was he seriously thinking about about running his hands through his own brother’s hair? What the hell was wrong with him? Those feelings that he’d thought he had way back when couldn’t be coming back, because they were fake in the first place. It was only because he hadn’t seen any cute girls in a long time. He could not be lusting after the one person who he loved more than anything. The one person he couldn’t lose. 

“You’re the cheater,” he retorted. It wasn’t the best comeback, but his brain was rather busy with other things at the moment. Like trying not to accept that his long dormant crush on his freaking brother was resurfacing. He watched Dean start to heave himself out of the pool, his shirt riding up even more and his muscles straining ridiculously under his thin t-shirt. 

“Let’s have a diving competition,” he said. He hadn’t known he was going to say it, and he didn’t know why he did. He and Dean had never tried diving in hotel pools, or anywhere else for that matter. Back at college, Brady and him used to go diving off the docks into the ocean sometimes, but never with Dean. Brady hadn’t even met Dean. It was hard for Sam to imagine, Dean was so much a part of his life that nobody could really know him without knowing Dean as well. 

Without waiting for Dean’s response, he got out of the pool and poised himself at the deepest part of the water, the toes of one foot curled around the edge, the other foot back, both legs bent and his arms above his head in the classic diving position. “Points out of ten, ok? Distance, form, and splash.” Dean just blinked at him from where he was sitting at the edge of the pool, his t-shirt clinging to him and his boxers…oh, god, Sam couldn’t even look there. He was only wearing boxers himself, and wished so much that he’d just gone swimming in his jeans instead of just having this thin layer of wet cotton protection between himself and his brother. 

He needed to stop thinking these treacherous thoughts. 

He pushed off with his back leg, sliding smoothly into the water at a shallow angle so he wouldn’t slam his head into the concrete bottom. He was far too tall to be doing this, but it was by far the least dangerous thing that had happened to him today, what with the salt and burn and those thoughts that were encroaching back into his mind. He coasted under water for a few seconds, then burst through the surface shaking the water and hair out of his eyes. 

“Nice try, Sammy. I’ll give you a four,” Dean said. His voice sounded less like the confident brother Sam had left behind, and more like this new and unsure version of Dean that Sam hadn’t gotten to know yet. Even without his eyes open, he could feel a stare on him. 

“I’d like to see you do better.” He tried to keep the tone light, but it ended up sounding frankly steamy. What was he doing? “I mean, I’ve never even seen you dive before. You’re probably pathetic, Bitch.” That may have been too far in the bratty little brother direction, but anything was better than the accidental bedroom voice. He had no control over himself. Why hadn’t they just stayed back in the hotel room? 

“Jerk,” Dean said, but he sounded more like his old self. Sam counted that as a win. 

He leaned his arms back on the edge of the pool on the shallow end, watching as Dean assumed the same position that Sam had dove from. His biceps bulged and the tendons in his ankles stood out in an extremely sexy—no, not a sexy way at all. Just the way that a human body functions when its muscles are being pulled on like that. Sam had taken an anatomy class, he knew these things. But that didn’t stop him from watching as his big brother leaned forward, every muscle in prefect alignment and…pulled up his knees to do a cannonball into the pool. 

“Dean, this is a diving contest. Not whatever the hell that was,” Sam laughed as Dean glared at him, shaking water off of his hair and beginning to crawl out of the pool again. “I’ll give you a do-over if you want,” he offered. Sam wasn’t a bad brother, other than the thoughts he was accidentally having about Dean’s butt right now. He played fair. 

“Whatever.” Dean went back to the edge of the pool, pulling his arms above his head in a triangle and positioning his legs one behind the other. His jaw was set firmly, which Sam knew not because he was watching his brother’s face but because that’s always what Dean did when he was determined to do something. Dean leaned forward, bent his legs, pushed off with his back leg, then pulled up his knees and fell into the water again. 

“Dude, what the hell?” 

“I panicked, ok? I never learned how to dive. I never went to a fancy school with a swimming pool.” Dean spat the words, like saying them with enough venom would take away from the meaning. 

“You never learned how to dive?” Sam asked in disbelief. “But dad taught me when I was seven!” 

“Well then good for you,” Dean said. His eyes were sparking, and his face was set in his look of intense brotherly anger. It was very close to his look when he was angry at their dad, but the set of the jaw was slightly different. Sam knew things like this about his brother. Sam knew almost everything about his brother. 

“I can teach you if you want.” The words slipped out of Sam’s mouth before he’d realized what he was saying. 

“Fine,” Dean said, and looked just as surprised as Sam was by his response. Dean had always been the one in control. Their entire lives, Dean had taught Sam the skills he needed. Sam had learned how to swim from Dean, how to make a meal out of garbage when their money ran out, even how to seduce a girl. Their dynamic was being so upset by this diving lesson, it made Sam’s head spin. He took a deep breath, walked up the stairs from the pool to the ground, and tried not to notice how Dean’s boxer shorts caught on the edge of the pool as he hauled himself out again. 

He was going to teach his brother how to dive, and absolutely nothing else.


	2. Diving and Distractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I published this so much later than I thought I would! I've been going through a rough time recently and had a health scare, as well as trying to finish a book I've been working on. But here you go! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Dean stood at the edge of the pool, his arms crossed, glaring at Sam. Every muscle in his body was tensed up, making himself seem bigger, as though trying to assert his dominance over his little brother. Sam knew Dean must be feeling very insecure, with their roles flipped like this. Sam could almost see the power imbalance hanging in the air like a sickly green smog. It felt wrong to him, as well. Being the one in charge while Dean’s around, it was just freaking weird. 

Sam walked around the pool as un-intimidatingly as he could, which was hard because his six foot four frame still loomed above his brother’s head. Sam sort of wished that he could have stayed shorter than Dean. It made him feel protected, having his big brother be able to enfold him in his arms and keep all the monsters out. Plus, it boosted Dean’s ego, and Dean needed to feel better about himself. 

“I could bash my brains out,” Dean said suddenly. “This isn’t safe.” 

“Ok, let’s just start kneeling.” The pool wasn’t that shallow, six and a half feet at the deepest end, but from this high up it looked hardly deeper than a puddle. “I’ll just demonstrate, ok?” 

“Yeah, demonstrate away. Did you forget to talk like a normal person when you went off to that fancy college?” 

“Shut up.” Sam shoved his brother’s shoulder, and then sank down to one knee near the edge of the pool. “Okay, so you’re gonna curl your toes around the edge of the tiles here, and then put your back foot down like this.” He looked up at his brother, and felt all the breath squeeze out of his lungs. He was right at the same level as Dean’s blue boxers, clinging to his golden skin in the living embodiment of every single one of Sam’s wet dreams. Sam couldn’t help but imagine would he would do if he were in this exact same position but in slightly…different circumstances. 

“So, like a crouching archery stance,” Dean prompted. Sam blushed when he realized he’d been accidentally staring at his brother-no, God, at his brother’s dick-for over ten seconds. He felt all limited blood in his body that wasn’t concentrated on his arousal staining his face bright red. 

“Yeah, just like that. Then you put your arms over your head just like this, and push off with your back foot.” Sam said quickly, and then pushed off and dove into the water. He didn’t come up for air right away, even though his lungs were begging for it, but stayed in the dark and silent water to try and quiet his brain down. 

How long had he been feeling this way about his big brother? He couldn’t say. Of course, he’d always though Dean looked like a sex god, and had tried to emulate him in every way. But that didn’t mean he’d always had a crush on his brother, right? He’d watched him go out with girls for years….

…and felt uncontrollable jealously every time. He’d thought it was because they were stealing his big brother from their horror movie marathon, but maybe it was because he’d rather have been in their place. Well, he’d always been a sick son of a bitch, what with the demon blood and the unnatural childhood and all that. This was just one more thing to add to the list. 

He finally broke the surface of the water, whipping his hair out of his face. 

“You alright there, princess? I thought I’d have to jump in and save your ass.” 

“Shut up.” It was by no means his best comeback, but it would have to do. “Your turn.”   
Dean snorted a laugh, but knelt by the edge of the pool in the way Sam had demonstrated. Sam hoisted himself out of the pool and went over to his brother. 

“Looks good, Dean, but your arms are sorta off.” He reached down and positioned Dean’s hands into a better line, bitting his lip and trying not to watch the drips of water flowing down the muscles in the other man’s arms. Just touching Dean’s hands sent an electric jolt through his body, and he had to check to make sure that his half-hard dick wasn’t touching Dean’s skin at all. 

Windegos, he thought to himself. Windegos wearing glittery spandex. Bobby wearing glittery spandex, dancing with the windegos. It worked a little bit, but with his hands on his brother’s skin his hard-on was just becoming more apparent. Then he realized that he’d gotten Dean’s arms into position at least ten seconds ago, and had just been standing around with his hands on Dean’s arms.

He snatched his hands back as though they’d been burned, flushing hot and red. “Okay,” he said, just to break the tense silence. “You’re good. Now push off with the back foot, remember.” 

“Yeah, I know, I know.” Dean sighed and then pushed off with his back foot, his body arcing over the water in perfect and breathtaking form. He crashed into the pool, sending droplets of water scattering through the air. Sam couldn’t help but watch his brother’s muscular thighs and shoulders as he took a few strokes before coming up for air. 

Yep, I’m a sick son of a bitch, alright. 

“Great job, Dean!” Sam called as Dean climbed out of the water. 

“Yeah, yeah, hold the applause. I’m ready to try it standing.” 

“Are you sure? It’s sort of frightening.” 

Dean gave Sam an incredulous look. “We just got back from hunting a freaking monster, I don’t think this is thing I’m going to have nightmares about.” 

“If you’re sure…ok, you’re going to lunge like this. Just like when you were kneeling, except now you have your foot on the ground instead of your back knee, ok?” 

“Sure. I’ll just get it over with, if you don’t mind.” Dean stepped up to the pool’s edge, positioned his feet in an exact copy of Sam's stance, raised his arms above his head, and dove. 

He entered the water with a splash, but other than that his form was absolutely perfect. Sam looked away after his brother entered the water, tried to collect his thoughts and control his feelings, but his mind wouldn’t stop racing. 

The things they could do in this pool…with Dean kneeling by his feet like that, and Sam’s arms over his…all it would take was a tiny change of position before his throbbing dick could finally seek the relief it needed. And Dean’s lips, stretched like that, would be even more beautiful than they already were. 

Sam let out a tiny moan, unable to stop himself. What was wrong with him? He’d only been lusting after his brother for less than an hour and already he couldn’t hold himself back.   
But when he really thought about it, the lusting had been going on for far more than an hour. Sam just hadn’t realized that it wasn’t normal to love your brother like that until he’d gone off to college and seen people in real relationships for the first time. They’d talk about how light seemed to radiate off the other person, and how they always wanted to be beside their beloved, and how they’d give up their life for the other. Sam had never felt quite like that, although he’d tried his hardest. 

That part of his heart had always belonged to Dean. 

“What’s the matter, Sammy?” Dean asked, and Sam realized with a shock of horror that Dean must’ve heard his moan. 

“I think I forgot my room key,” Sam said, years of lying practice helping him come up with an answer before he could look suspicious.   
“Don’t worry, dude. I came prepared.” Dean gestured to his key card, lying in plain sight on a table. 

“Yeah, regular little boy scout,” Sam scoffed. “Well, that was a really good dive except for the splash. How about we try it again?” 

“Whatever,” Dean said, walking back over to where Sam stood. He crouched into the diving stance again, but his arms were completely off center.   
If Sam had been thinking straight, he’d have realized that Dean knew exactly how to hold his arms from years of practice centering his body and using his arms as weapons. 

But Sam was a bit distracted. While he hadn’t been looking, Dean had shucked off his shirt and now there was a vast expanse of skin for Sam ogle. Dean’s abs were defined, of course, but Sam had never realized that his brother had the most defined hip bones of all time. And Dean’s nipples…oh, how Sam wanted to get his mouth on one of those. He could just imagine teasing the little brown nub until it was hot and pink, Dean writing beneath him and spitting curses as Sam made him feel better than any of those women before. 

And that’s why Sam didn’t notice that when he leaned in to fix Dean’s arm positioning, his entire body was pressed against Dean’s back. Including his hard-on. He did notice, however, when Dean went slightly rigid beneath him. This cue hadn’t changed durning Sam’s time away. Tensing always meant that Dean was scared. 

“Umm…so is there a hot chick at the pool that I’m unaware of?” Dean asked, a nervous tremble in his voice. A hot chick? Why would there be a hot chick? Sam looked down, confused, and noticed that his stiffy was poking Dean right in the lower back, impossible to miss. 

Well, fuck. 

“Or am I just turning you on?” Dean asked, wiggling his eyebrows at Sam. A desperate attempt to lighten the mood. 

“I…I….I,” Sam didn’t know what to say. How was he supposed to explain to his brother that he was the hardest he’d ever been, just because he was touching Dean? 

“Wait a minute. Am I turning you on?” Dean asked, his voice suddenly low and serious.   
“What?” Sam asked, terrified. Had dean figured out what was going on, just a few minutes after he himself had realized his attraction to his brother? 

“Tell me the truth, Sammy.” Dean turned around, his eyes boring into Sam’s. His pupils were blown, showing only a small ring of green around the edge. Sam gaped wordlessly, unable to come up with anything to say to his brother. “C’mon, man, don’t leave me hanging like this.” 

“Fine, yes. You turn me on. I’m the sick son of a bitch who gets hot and heavy because of his own brother. Now, can you just take a dive and forget this conversation ever happened?” Sam did his best to sound calm and collected, but his heart was racing at a gallop and his breathing was at all the wrong times. This is when he’d loose his brother forever, he was sure of it. 

“What if I don’t want to forget?” He must have heard wrong. There was no way that Dean could ever feel even slightly the same way as Sam. 

“What?” Sam asked again, his entire vocabulary leaving his mind. 

“I said,” Dean came even closer to Sam. “What if I don’t want to forget?” 

And then their lips met, and Sam’s brain shut off. He didn’t know who had started it, he didn’t even know if he was standing or lying down or flying on a goddamn cloud. All he knew was that his brother—his brother—and he were having the best kiss of his entire fucking life.   
And after a few moments, he also knew that the thing pressing into his thigh was definitely not his brother’s gun. 

“How long, Sammy?” Dean asked breathlessly as they broke the kiss. Sam didn’t have to ask what he was talking about. 

“I don’t know. I just realized it, but I think I’ve felt this way since before I knew what it meant,” he gritted out between his teeth as Dean pushed him backwards towards the wall. It was the single hottest thing that had ever happened to him. “How long for you?” He asked, and then immediately regretted it. Although all the signs pointed to requited love, what if Dean didn’t actually feel the same way? What if he was just being the amazing big brother he’d always been, and was giving yet another part of himself to Sam? 

“Always,” Dean said, nipping at Sam’s neck. Sam moaned as the realization that Dean returned his feelings and the fiery sensation of Dean’s teeth against his skin hit him at the same time. “I loved you from the moment Mom put you in my arms for the first time. I knew I loved you as more than a brother the night you left.” 

“Wait a minute,” Sam gasped, pulling away from Dean’s teeth but unable to stop his arms from stroking Dean’s strong back over and over again. “The night I left for Stanford?” 

“Yeah.” Dean hid his face in the crook of Sam’s neck, and Sam knew exactly why. That night had been one of the worst nights of his entire life. Dean drove him to the bus stop, tears dripping down his cheeks even though he refused to acknowledge it. He had parked Baby, and then turned to Sam. 

“I want to tell you something before you go running off,” he’d said, his voice shaking ever so slightly with all his repressed emotion. But the bus had been leaving, and Sam had jumped out of the car and only thrown Dean a wave back over his shoulder. As soon as Dean was out of sight, he’d broken down in sobs and hadn’t stopped until the next state over.   
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” He asked, stroking Dean’s hair. 

“Yeah, man.” Dean pressed another kiss to Sam’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” 

“No, dude! I shouldn’t have run off like that. I’m so sorry, Dean. I know I don’t tell you enough, but I love you and I’m sorry.” 

Dean shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I tried to stop you from following your dream. That was a shitty thing to do. Just because I can’t get over my own co-dependency issues…” 

“I think you mean our own co-dependency issues.” 

“No, Sammy, you don’t understand. I was so clingy that it corrupted you. It’s my fault you feel this way, ok? MINE.” 

“Dean! Calm down. It’s not anyone’s fault, it just happened. And if you break this off before it even starts because you feel guilty, I swear to god I’m not rescuing you next time a monster ties you up and tries to eat you. Pus, remember, you said it yourself. No chick flick moments.” 

“Yeah, ok. But…”

“No ‘buts’, Dean. Actually, no talking at all. Let’s make out some more.” 

“Sexy, Sammy.” Dean chuckled, the tension broken. “You’re certainly a smooth player.” 

“Shut up, Jerk.” Sam leaned in and took his brother’s pink, perfect lip in between his teeth. 

“Bitch,” Dean mumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for now. I might add a smutty chapter later, depending on how people like this story and if you want it continued. Please, let me know! Kudos make my life better, and comments are so amazing and help me improve my writing. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> My writing club was meeting today in school, and we got on the subject of fanfiction. Our president told us all to write a fanfic, as bad or as good as we want. This was my contribution, and I think it turned out well enough that I wanted to share it with other wincest fans. Please let me know what you think! I'll be updating pretty regularly, at least once every other day. Comments and kudos are always appreciated. And if anyone from the writing club is reading this, I hope it lived up to your expectation.


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